


pull yourself together

by stuff_and_nonsense



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, And Fewer Tentacles, Body Horror, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuff_and_nonsense/pseuds/stuff_and_nonsense
Summary: Graves is attracted to power, and Credence is attracted to Graves.Featuring a Credence who's having some trouble with the 'maintaining human form' thing.





	

The boy was still on the floor, mewling for help, but Graves could smell the power on him now. How had he missed it all this time? The sharp, intoxicating scent of dark magic filled the ruined church.

"Credence," he said, "come with me. You've proven yourself now. You can have everything you've ever wanted."

"I killed her," Credence sobbed, "I killed my mother."

"That woman was not your mother. Just a ridiculous, petty Muggle who no one will miss. She hurt you for so long - you should have done it years ago." He reached a hand out to cup the boy's face. "You will never have to let anyone hurt you again."

Credence's eyes were white, standing out eerily in his tear-streaked face, and tendrils of black sparked up and down his skin. He must be barely holding himself together. "I can teach you to control it," Graves continued, "if you come with me."

The boy nodded. Graves pulled him close, and Apparated them away.  
\-----  
They landed in his apartment, crashing into being in the middle of his living room. As the boy gasped for breath, Graves reinforced the shielding and silencing charms that already lined the walls. He then turned his attention to Credence. He reached out and squeezed the boy's hands; the black tendrils tingled as they passed over his skin. For once Credence didn't lean into him, too focused on whatever was happening inside himself.

"Talk to me," said Graves. "What do you feel?" Credence opened his mouth, and seemed to choke. Instead of words, black smoke drifted from between his lips. How much longer could the boy hold on to his human form? Best not to waste time worrying about that, for now. He'd try a different approach.

"Just relax," he continued. "Let it out. I know you're not going to hurt me. You're magical - this is your true power finally showing." He moved nearer to Credence as he spoke. This close, the Obscurial's magic was almost overwhelming. This would be his if he could keep the boy's trust. 

Credence's back and shoulders, at first trembling, stilled and then began to grow more insubstantial under his touch. Graves felt his arms began to sink into the space where the boy's flesh had been. It chilled his fingers, but wasn't entirely unpleasant. It reminded him of pressing his hands into deep clay, like he'd done sometimes as a child, the feeling somehow satisfying in its viscerality. 

"You're doing so well," he said. "One last push." The darkness was seeping from most of Credence's body now, spreading out into the room. Only the boy's face, white eyes wide, was still properly visible.

Suddenly, everything was black. Graves's hands felt only empty air, and he heard a rush of wind, a series of thumps, the crackle of breaking glass. His ears popped as the pressure in the room dropped suddenly. He pulled out his wand and whispered "lumos", and saw a cloud of darkness moving up and down the room in front of him. All his lamps were shattered into a fine powder of glass, and the few items of furniture the room held were damaged beyond repair. No matter.

"You've done it, Credence," he said quietly. "You're beautiful". The black cloud that had been Credence stilled. The temperature in the room seemed to rise slightly; Graves realized as it did that his arms had goose-pimpled from the chill. "I knew you could control it." The cloud trembled again, contracted, and reformed into a roughly human shape, four limbs and a head.

"Do you want to go back?" Graves asked. "Concentrate. Remember what it felt like." The shape grew more solid and more finely defined; eventually, a layer of pale human skin formed across most of it.

Credence had reappeared, but not quite as he'd been. He had the general shape right, but wouldn't pass as human for a moment. Cracks split the skin of his face, leaking darkness. His clothes seemed to be mere suggestions, formed not of fabric but of whatever raw magic-stuff lurked within the boy. His proportions were subtly off, limbs slightly too long and eyes too far apart. The boy's posture tried to signal the weakness and vulnerability that Graves had become familiar with, but the contrast with the Obscurus's obvious power was ludicrous.  
"It hurts like this," Credence whispered. "I've not got it right, I don't think."

"You'll get better at it with time," Graves answered. "And your shape doesn't matter - what's important is that you know how to control your actions."

"Is this happening because I'm a wizard?" Credence asked. "Is this normal for people with magic?"

"You're much more powerful than most wizards. It's a great thing, but it means you'll need more help to learn how to use that power. I can provide that help, if you're willing to stay with me for a time."

"Please," said Credence. "That's all I want." He reached a hand out tentatively toward Graves. Graves took it with one of his own, gripping it firmly. The tingling he'd felt before at Credence's touch was much stronger, a whole-body shock. He hadn't felt this much power since he and Albus had parted.

The boy was devoted; he was sure of that. He knew he could cement that devotion now, could be even more to Credence. And he wanted to for less practical reasons as well - his whole body cried out to be closer to that power.

Slowly, he moved forward and pressed his lips against the boy's. He stepped back to see Credence's reaction, and saw a reflection of his own face in those distorted features: raw hunger, with power underneath. 

"You wanted this too?" Credence whispered, and then he was upon him.

Graves had imagined fucking the boy: taking him in some back alley, forcing his cock between those pink lips, leaving him on the ground pleading for more. This was nothing like his fantasies. He was far outmatched by the Obscurus; he wouldn't be the one in charge here. But there would be time afterwards for that, for making sure Credence remembered how much he owed. For now, Graves would take what he was given.

Credence's lips were cold upon his, and uncannily smooth. He pressed into Graves with a ferocity that almost made him stumble back. Graves wrapped his arms around the boy as he returned the kiss, allowing his wand to fall from his fingers. The point of light blinked out.

In the dark, Credence seemed to falter a bit. His hands wandered up and down Graves's back, uncertain of their destination. His upper body was pressed tight against the older man's, but he seemed to be pushing his hips away, avoiding contact. The boy could level buildings, but he was shy about an erection? Graves did appreciate the nervousness - it pushed the power balance more in his direction - but he'd soon have Credence over that particular hang-up.

He grabbed the back of the boy's head with one hand and his ass with the other, pulling him forward and pressing their hips together. He ground into Credence, feeling the Obscurial's unmistakable arousal with his own, and moved his head down to bite at the boy's neck. That did the trick: Credence moaned, and returned to his earlier aggressiveness, grinding back shamelessly and pushing his mouth hard against Graves's.

As they kissed, Graves felt the boy's flesh change under his hands, growing colder and less solid. The pressure on his lips continued, but the hands gripping him tightly seemed to melt away. He soon felt other touches across his body: skating over his neck, nudging at the edges of his shirt, wrapping around his legs. He explored the space in front of him with one cautious hand, pushing through the thick clay-like substance he'd felt before to find something more solid within.

He moved both his hands towards the mass. Whatever was touching him trembled, and then began to move more frantically, pressing tighter around him and pulling him forward. The shape in front of him was composed of something thick and ropey that left his hands feeling wet as they slid slickly over it. He plunged his hands deeper into the knot, squeezing ropes between his fingers. The shape started to vibrate gently, then faster, almost as if it were purring.

He continued to massage the writhing knot, plunging in almost to his elbows. The purring reached an almost uncomfortable intensity, vibrating into his bones. He would have gasped, if he were the sort of man who gasped. 

"Credence," he whispered, and the mass shot apart, ropes leaving his fingers and wrapping instead around his whole body. The smell of dark magic sharpened, intoxicating; his ears popped again as the pressure in the room fluctuated. He was totally surrounded by the thing that had been a boy. It snaked across his face, beneath his clothing, covering him with that tingling of power. It felt good; he tried to keep himself alert, but it would be so easy to just sink into it. The still-unfamiliar body he wore had a sensitivity that he hadn't felt since he was a much younger man.

"You're a wonder," he said. "Perfect. We'll do such things together." His words seemed to have an effect; the Obscurus wrapped tighter around him. He felt himself lifted off the ground. A tendril rested itself against his mouth, and he brushed his tongue across it. It tasted like dark magic smelled: metal and power and the faintest undertone of sweet rot.

The tendrils inside his clothes moved faster against him. He ached for them to continue, more than he'd thought possible. Floating in the darkness, he grew less and less aware, more lost in the sensations that enveloped him. The room grew warmer again; his head ached from the pressure changes; the rushing sound of wind grew louder. He was hot and cold and sensitive all over. It was too much, and he wanted more of it, and it built and built until suddenly everything stopped.

\-----

When he came to, the room was still in darkness. He was on hands and knees and every nerve was raw, but he was as exultant as if he'd just won a battle. He groped for his wand, pulled forth a dim lumos and then repaired and lit the lamps. 

The room was a disaster, furniture no more than splinters. He wasn't much better - his usually meticulous clothes were torn in places, and streaked with something black and oily. The same substance covered his hands. It took him a moment to find Credence, tucked underneath the ruins of a couch. The boy had pulled together a rough semblance of a human face, features fluid and distorted. Underneath was all darkness, writhing tentacles and wisps of black smoke. What there was of the boy's features bore that same tiresome shame and fear, but Graves would soon help him beyond that. Together, they would have everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fantastic beasts kink meme http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org


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